Congolese Lullaby
by NajaLau
Summary: Missing story from Dr. Carter's time in Africa. Sometimes, even doctors can be in need of a little help.


**Author's note:** This is an old story of mine that I found in an all but forgotten folder on my computer. Re-reading it, I realized all it needed was a quick dusting off and the changing of a few names to make it fit into the E.R. canon. I haven't watched the show in ages, but I have fond memories of Dr. Carter and the rest of the good doctors at County General.

 **Timeline:** The timeline is set somewhere between season 13 and 15.

 **Disclaimer:** I own nothing and am just borrowing a few characters from the E.R. universe.

* * *

 **A Congolese Lullaby**

Kiki Mgala coughed again, her claw-like hands clutching his as the spasm wracked her thin shoulders. The doctor nodded to himself as his eyes drifted professionally over her wasted ten-year-old body. There was nothing more he could do for her. She had already been given as much medicine to battle the AIDS as they could spare, but it was up to her to fight through another year. He got up from his crouched position and stretched his aching back. Then he absentmindedly caressed her frizzled, sweat-soaked hair and left through the thin sheet that separated her cot from the next.

When he left the medical tent two and a half hour later, a young woman came up to him. She smiled and pushed a bowl of thick congealed soup into his hands.

"You need to eat, Dr. Carter." She looked at him critically, her myriad of thin braids coiled about her head like a great black snake. "And rest," she admonished sternly. The doctor smiled at her audacity. She was less than half his age, barely a woman, yet her eyes dared him to object.

"All right, Mnaya," he said in his deep clear voice. "I'll eat this and check on tent four and then I'll -" A loud crash stopped him in mid-sentence. A young boy's voice rose up in pain and another began to sob. Men and women around them rushed towards the sounds and the doctor thrust the bowl back to Mnaya's waiting hands before he too ran.

Eight hours later Mnaya found the doctor washing caked blood of his hands. His eyes were grim, but he smiled at her when she offered him a towel. "Thank you Mnaya," he mumbled. "Do you want to go get some food? I'm starved," he added with a glint of humour.

Mnaya's pleased nod turned first to a frown and then to worry. "Doctor." She pointed to his arm,

He groaned as he noticed a long shallow gash in the upper arm of the shirt. It must have been from lifting the metal crates off the boys. Stupid of them to have been climbing on them. And stupid of him to tear his best shirt. His annoyance shifted to alarm when he noticed the dried blood stains around the edges of the rip, then back to annoyance. He sighed and nodded to Mnaya; "On second thought, go on, I'll get this cleaned up and meet you there." He started to pick his way through the camp.

"Doctor Kimberly, I need your help." He really couldn't see anything inside her tent except for the contours of the shallow cot and her beloved trunk filled with medical books and trashy romance novels. As his eyes became accustomed to the darkness he was able to discern her sleeping form huddled in a thin blanket with her curly brown hair spilling down on the ground. He sighed. "Kim?" Perhaps he should let her sleep, but then he would never hear the end of it. He gingerly stepped over her discarded clothes that had fallen where she had stripped on her way to the two inch thick mattress on a crooked iron frame that was her bed.

"Mm, what's wrong?" She mumbled from under the covers when he gently touched her shoulder. Then she sat bolt upright, her hair creating a dark halo around her face. "Is it the boys? Is Tomo bleeding again!" He placed a calming hand on her arm. "No they're both sleeping. They're both fine," he smiled reassuringly.

He grimaced and showed her the gash."I just need to borrow your famous magic hands for a moment."

"Damn it, John," she groaned, before getting up, putting on a robe and making her way down to the small makeshift table and picking out a bottle of antiseptic and plastic packet with a sterile needle and suture thread from the clutter.

"You know this is going to need stitches," she stated as she examined the wound. He made a face.

"How long since you got it?" She asked as she carefully rolled up his shredded sleeve.

"Not sure. Probably happened getting the boys out." Sitting in the darkness of the tent he suddenly felt how bone weary he was. He groaned softly and closed his eyes.

He felt a cool hand feeling his forehead. "You really need to rest, John." Kimberly said quietly. He flashed her a tired grin. "Sure. Just as soon as your shift starts, I'll get some sleep."

"Not good enough." She turned on a kerosene lamp and then started to clean the gash as gently as she could, but the disinfectant still stung like crazy. "You can't keep doing triple shifts, when a single shift is enough to knock most sane people out. If Kem was here…"

"I'll take it easy once the new doctor gets here," he mumbled, cutting her off. He sucked in his breath as the cotton patch caught in the gash.

Kimberly sighed, but tactfully didn't mention Dr. Carter's estranged wife again. "We're not sure when new supplies let alone backup is coming. I spoke to one of the drivers today and he said there is more trouble with warlords in the lowland. It might not be safe to send someone right now. Hold still!"

"But it hurts," he couldn't help but laugh at the childishness in his own voice.

"Men," Kimberly grumbled. "Well, I'd better get you something before I start stitching if you're gonna be such a baby." She got up.

"Nothing strong, I have to stay awake," he mumbled while resting his head on the side of the tent. He could hear her pouring a glass of water from the small tank just outside and then she was beside him again. "Don't worry, we haven't got enough drugs for me to waste them on a clumsy doctor who should've known better than to run around with an open cut for eight hours in an African refugee camp."

"Anyway, I've got some ibuprofen from my personal stash." She handed him a small handful of pills which he dutifully swallowed with the dusty water.

"Now hold still." For a long while none of them spoke. He gritted his teeth every time the needle jabbed sharply into his flesh but after a while a pleasant numbness settled in his body.

"There, all done. Let me just bandage this up and you're as good as new."

"Thanks," he mumbled. His hand felt heavy and he could hardly feel it as he rubbed his face. "Well I'd better be going. Need to check on the boys." He slowly climbed to his feet when a dizzy spell hit him and he almost fell over.

"You'd better lie down, John." Kimberly said gently, pressing a hand to his shoulder. "I told you that you needed to rest."

"Can't just now, Kim. There's too much to..." He tried to get up again, but at some point the room had started spinning. Kimberly caught him as he toppled over.

"You really need to lie down." She repeated.

"I'm fine," he mumbled. She sighed, but didn't let go of him.

It took him another long and dizzy moment, but his sluggish mind finally put two and two together. "Those pills weren't ibuprofen," he reasoned slowly. "What did you give me?"

She gave him a steady look. "Vicodin... and a mild sedative."

He groaned even as the outer edges of his vision started to fade.

"Come on John, if you hadn't already been ready to drop it wouldn't have knocked you out this fast and you know it."

"That's no s'cuse," he slurred as the world darkened. He faintly felt her get up and leave the tent.

"Marcel, I need your help," Kimberly's voice softly called out into the Sub-Saharan night.

"What you need, Doc Kimbali?" Came the deep rumbling reply as the man reached her. He could almost hear her muffled reply and then he sensed someone entering the tent again.

"What happened?"

"Don't worry, Doctor Carter is just tired. Here, help me carry him to his tent. No wait, on second thought he'll just slip back to work as soon as he wakes. Let's keep him here, I'll have Mnaya keep an eye on him."

He was vaguely aware of someone half lifting half dragging him onto a softer surface and then someone started to pull off his boots.

The last thing he felt was cool lips on his forehead and someone murmuring; "Idiot."

Later he half woke to a whispered conversation:

"... take over for him," Kimberly's muffled voice said. "He desperately needs to rest. If I hadn't done what I did, he might have dropped down in the middle of a crisis. The fool doesn't know when to stop..."

Then came the quiet murmur of a another woman's voice.

"... wakes up, crush these into powder and mix it with some water. Make him drink it and be sure that..." the voices seemed to move away and a deep blanket of silence replaced them.

He woke up slowly, his head pounding. At first he didn't recognize the unfamiliar space but then some of last night's events came back to him. He must have groaned because someone immediately stuck their head into the tent. "Are you awake, Doctor Carter?" Mnaya asked as she opened the tent flap. The sharp light from the opening seemed to cut into his skull and he flinched. "Yeah, I'm awake," he said. Every muscle in his body screamed as he tried to sit up and he quickly rethought the idea. Mnaya nodded to herself. "You should not try to get up just yet," she said firmly and felt his forehead.

He snorted, "Are you playing doctor now Mnaya?"

"No, but Doctor Kimberly said to tell you to take it easy." Mnaya smiled, showing her teeth; "She also said that you must do what I tell you. Are you thirsty?"

It felt as if someone had poured sand down his throat and the pounding in his head was still aggressive. He decided it was safest just to nod and ignore the part about Kim giving orders.

Mnaya picked up the glass of water sitting on the ground next to the bed. She supported his head as he drank, careful to make him drink it all. He had a quick flash of misgivings about the water, but couldn't quite pin down the reason, all the while trying to ignore the indignity of being treated like an invalid.

Almost immediately the room started spinning. "Damn," he managed to mumble before passing out again.

"Sleep good, Doctor Carter." Mnaya said, before getting up to find Doctor Kimberly.

When he came to again it was dark outside and he could hear the quiet symphony of crickets. Kimberly was sitting in a small field chair next to the bed reading a worn copy of " _Burning Desire_ ", her face looked drawn and there were deep purple smudges under her eyes. She smiled tiredly when she saw he was awake. "Welcome back, sleeping beauty."

She snorted. "I was beginning to think you were trying to catch up for the last five years of sleep deprivation all in one go."

"How long...?" He asked.

"Almost three days. Your body obviously needed the rest," she sounded slightly defensive. "Would you like something to drink?"

"No thanks," he said unable to hide his anger. "I think I've learned my lesson." She flashed him a guilty look then tried to smile but he refused to be appeased and just kept up his stony glare.

Then she sighed. "All right, maybe I shouldn't have drugged you," she admitted.

"Or had Mnaya drug me," he cut in.

"Or had Mnaya drug you," she conceded. "But you were being so damn pigheaded. You were practically dead on your feet. Besides the cut was infected and I know you were never going to take proper care of it."

He looked down his arm which was neatly bandaged and then over to the other one which had an IV drip inserted just below the elbow. She followed his gaze. "It was easier than dealing with you being awake," she said as way of an explanation.

"Doctor Staffeldt brought a batch of them..." she nodded at the IV "...with him from the city when he arrived. I think you'll like him even though he's very young and very green." She rolled her eyes. "We've also got 400 extra doses of TB meds plus a few crates of antibiotics and antivirals, not to mention a new _complete_ surgery kit." Kimberly's pale cheek got a little colour thinking on the new equipment, and he couldn't help smiling at her enthusiasm.

"Are you sure you don't want some water," she asked. "Here I'll drink first... to show it's not drugged."

He waited until she had drunk half before accepting what was left, figuring that even if it was drugged at least Kimberly would get some much needed sleep too. When the room didn't start spinning immediately he took that as a good sign.

"Who took over while I was...?" He finally asked

"Jo, Mnaya and I were able to keep things going. Besides Dr. Staffeldt came two days ago, so don't worry, the camp hasn't crumbled to dust just because you weren't everywhere for three days. Besides there have been no major crisis, really."

She leaned back crossing her arms as if being cold before saying quietly: "We lost Tomo. I'm sorry, John." Her dark hair hung like a curtain around her face hiding her expression, but the doctor could easily picture the pinched look around her eyes and the bitter lines forming around her mouth. He had seen that look too many times over the past two years.

"How?"

"We think it was his kidneys. He started bleeding again around noon. There was nothing we could do by the time we found out."

"And the other boy?"

"He has a slight fever, I had Johanna sit with him. If the infection doesn't get any worse he'll live, especially now we have plenty antibiotics."

He sighed and closed his eyes. He had known right away that Tomo's chances were slim. The weight of the falling metal crates had almost certainly caused massive internal bleeding and they simply hadn't had the right meds or equipment for fixing that kind of damage. Performing surgery to stop some of the bleeding would only have invited more infections into a body already weak from malnutrition and parasites. The other boy's broken leg and the deep uneven gashes running up and down both legs had been easier to deal with although an infection had been impossible to avoid.

"So we've got a new doctor, eh?" He said as a way of a peace offering and to change the subject.

She nodded, happy to accept his olive branch. "His first name is Maximilian, Max to his friends, and he volunteered right out of his internship at the Berger Clinic in Frankfurt. You know the type; wide-eyed idealist, wants to save the world one child at a time." She laughed ruefully. "Gods have I really gotten that jaded? Seems like it was only a week ago that that was me. Ugh I feel old!"

He reached out and gripped her hand. "You're not jaded. Just a little bit wiser," he said quietly. "And you're definitely not old," he added with a smile.

She didn't say anything for a while, just held his hand, then she nodded briskly and quickly tied her hair into a ponytail. "Well, I'd better be going. I really wish you'd stay here and get a _genuine_ good night's sleep, but I won't force you." She got up. "I still have to help inventory the supplies and somebody's gotta show the new nurses where everything is..."

He grabbed her hand before she could leave the tent. "Thank you, Kimmie. I... I might... have needed the rest," he forced it out. She bowed and kissed him on the top of the head. "Now, was that so hard to admit?" Her eyes glittered with humour.

"Just don't ever do it again," he growled.

"Then don't give me a reason to," she retorted.

Just before she left the tent she smirked at him: "Remember, no one's keeping you here, but you really should get some more sleep. That would be my advice." Then she was gone.

He sighed deeply, not willing to admit to himself that he was still tired. Where had his youth gone to? It wasn't that long ago he could work two or three days straight and still catch up on his sleep in one night - of course he hadn't had that one night's sleep for the past week, only short naps every few shifts, but still.

All right, he would just make a quick round of the tents, check on the surviving boy and maybe speak with Tomo's... aunt? If he could find her and she was awake, and then come back here for a short nap. Just to make Kimberly happy of course.

He took out the IV careful not to damage it in any way - medical equipment was still precious and scarce. He slowly sat up ignoring his stiff muscles as they complained and stifling a sound that was most definitely not a groan.

He froze when he realized what Kimberly's last smirk and cryptic remark had been about.

Nothing was keeping him from leaving the tent. He was completely free to go. Nothing at all was stopping him - except for the fact that he didn't have any pants.

"Bloody woman," he snarled and was rewarded with the sound of Mnaya's girly laughter outside the tent.


End file.
